A Shoulder To Lean On
by MagicByMerlin
Summary: You listen when I have a problem and help dry the tears from my face. You take away my sorrow and put happiness in its place. AU fic
1. Chapter One

**Merlin AU fic**

A Shoulder To Lean On

You listen when I have a problem, and help dry the tears from my face. You take away my sorrow, and put happiness in its place.

**Word Count** - 5,444

**Chapter Count** - 4

**Length Taken To Write** - 3 days

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Arthur watched as the boy he had known all his life threw his black hat up in the air to be joined with the hundreds of others that were momentarily suspended in space.

Merlin had finally done it. Merlin had graduated.

The dark haired teen pushed his way through the cheering crowd to where Arthur was standing, clapping heartily along with all the other friends and family who were applauding the newly graduated young men and women.

For a moment, the bustling crowd thinned a little and Merlin squeezed through them towards his friend who grinned and clapped him on the back before beginning to walk down one of the aisles between the rows of chairs, hands in his pockets and Merlin bouncing around with excitement at his heels.

"Look, they even gave me a certificate and everything!" Merlin squeaked, waving the piece of paper around as if it were a flag and grinning like a lunatic.

Arthur sighed. He knew Merlin well enough to know that he got excited over even the smallest of things.

Their mothers had been friends and had even almost given birth on the same day. Arthur had been born first, but about a week later Merlin had come along and their mothers had gotten together a few months after to exchange mother-like gossip. That's when he'd first met Merlin.

They did now, but they hadn't always got along…

According to Merlin's mother, as soon as Arthur had caught sigh of him, he'd clubbed poor Merlin over the head with a rattle. Merlin had then begun to bawl and Arthur had hastily tried to calm him down.

Hunith said it was very sweet. When they had gotten older, both the boys had strongly disagreed, started blushing like ten year olds would and scuttled off to play Cowboys and Indians, muttering something about 'parents' under their breath.

So, even after the first impression rule had been thrown out the window, they'd both had soft spots for each other ever since.

They'd grown up together, gone to school together, gone to collage together (until Arthur had graduated) and now they even lived together in the same flat somewhere in the heart of London.

It was quite a roomy apartment. Arthur had been able to afford it, seeing as his father was the biggest business tycoon in the whole of London…probably. However, the same couldn't be said for the beaten up old Ford Focus Arthur drove, which they had reached now.

Arthur pulled a hand from his pocket and reached out for the certificate Merlin was still fluttering around.

"Let's see, then. Give it here."

Merlin handed him the precious document and preceded to pull the dusty window of the old Ford down so he could climb in. Arthur had lost the keys months ago and had never been bothered to get a replacement. Besides, only a deranged fool would ever want to steal the bashed up old car, which had numerous – perhaps immeasurable – amounts of scratches, scrapes, dents and rust patches.

Inelegantly, and tripping over his silky black graduation robes, Merlin fell into the passenger seat and straightened himself up to face Arthur who leant on the sun-bleached roof of the car and looked at the certificate carefully, before handing it back to Merlin, smiling.

"I'm proud of you, Merlin," he said as his friend opened the driver's door for him (the handle was jammed) and he sat down on the tattered old seat that had several threads missing. "I really am."

While Arthur started up the juddering engine with two wires under the wheel, Merlin kicked the lever under his chair with the heel of his Converse All Stars and slid back before resting his legs on the dashboard.

"Yeah? Well, you can show me just how proud you are when we get home," he said, pushing the button of the radio and turning the dial to Radio One, deciding he didn't like it and switching it off again. "The match is on tonight."

"Yeah, I know!" Arthur retorted indignantly, pushing his foot down on the pedal. The old car began to chug down the road.

"You need to get a new car, you know," Merlin said, leaning back in the flimsy chair and putting his hands behind his head, looking smug.

"You always say that…" Arthur sighed.

"Well, that's your fault for never listening - WATCH OUT FOR THE GRANNY!!!"

Arthur veered around the old lady, swerved onto the curb, almost mowed down a toddler waiting for an ice cream, and got the car back on the road again.

"Anyway, as I was saying," Merlin went on, unperturbed, as this was a near daily occurrence, "you should get your dad to buy you a new car. I'm sure he can afford one."

"We both know he can, but he said the flat was all he was paying for," Arthur responded.

Suddenly, the phone that was in his pocket began to vibrate and Uther's alarm tone blared out loudly.

"Speak of the devil…" Merlin said philosophically as Arthur dug the mobile out and handed it to him, "Yeah, 'ello."

"_Mer_lin," Arthur glared at him and gave him a look. Merlin sighed, stuck his tounge out and turned to face the window.

"Sorry," he cast Arthur a meaningful glare, "I mean; hello, Merlin speaking. How – are – you – Uther?"

Arthur watched as Merlin's brash expression slid slowly off his face. He could hear his father on the other side of the phone but couldn't tell what he was saying.

"He wants to talk to you," Merlin was quite pale as he handed Arthur the phone.

"Well, tell him I'm driving!" Arthur hissed as Merlin tired to hold the awaiting mobile to his ear.

"This is _Uther_," Merlin replied in a low voice. "Just take the phone!"

Begrudgingly, Arthur let him hold the Nokia to his ear and waited for his father to speak. Merlin watched on, biting his lip.

"Yes…no…" Arthur started talking to the mobile, growing increasingly pale. "Why? No…not yet…yes…yes…not today, no…yesterday. Yeah…yeah…I don't know…erm…Merlin, where are we?" he turned expectantly to his friend who looked helplessly around for a signpost.

"Passing The Science Museum," Merlin hissed after seeing the famous landmark.

"Passing The Science museum," Arthur repeated. "What? Oh, yeah, he did. No…maybe…what, tomorrow? Yeah, yeah…I'll do my best…yes…oh, good…yeah…bye."

Merlin snapped the flip phone shut as Arthur took his head away and swallowed, flexing his fingers on the worn steering wheel.

"What'd he say?" Merlin asked tentatively, holding the phone in a sweaty hand and giving Arthur a wary eye. Uther's phone calls never ended well and Arthur looked edgy.

"He wants to meet us at the flat. Says he wants to catch up…" Arthur replied, his lips forming a thin line.

"That's good, right?" Merlin inquired, thinking it would be good for Arthur to see his father – something his friend rarely did these days.

"Who knows?" Arthur sighed; looking icy, but then seemed to brighten up and nudged Merlin with an elbow. "Lets just hope he won't still be there when the match starts, eh!"

Laughing, Merlin looked around for the pile of clothes he'd left in the car when he discovered he wasn't allowed to wear them for the graduation. He found his jeans and T-shirt, but there was something missing…

"You seen my scarf anywhere?" he asked, turning around in his seat and rummaging in all the old junk that filled the back seats.

"Erm…don't think so, no," Arthur replied. "Why _do_ you wear that thing, anyway?"

"Well, why not?" Merlin muffled; his head buried in an old golf bag. He found the red scarf and pulled it out. "Are you saying you don't like it?"

"Well, I never understood why you wear it," Arthur said as Merlin expertly knotted up the neckerchief.

"Morgana likes it," Merlin said airily. "She said it was iconic. Oh, c'mon, Arthur!" he said, bumping his friend on the arm when he said nothing and just stared at the road. "You're supposed to be my best friend. That means you have to compliment me every now and then!"

"Well…it's a…" Arthur was clearly trying to find something good about the scarf as he gave it a glare and waved his hand vaguely. "It's a nice colour…I guess."

"There, that didn't kill you, did it?" Merlin laughed, leaning back in his seat again.

"It's got a delayed reaction," Arthur muttered.

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**I'll post more chapters soon!**

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	2. Chapter Two

"Merlin," Arthur inquired hopefully as he pulled the keys to their flat out of his pocket, found the correct one and put it in the lock, "you did clean up before we left, right?"

Merlin, who was ruffling his hair in a mirror, looked up sheepishly.

"Well…no…but I've got a good reason!"

Sighing, Arthur rammed his shoulder against the door to get it open before walking in and closing it behind Merlin as his friend also stepped in, looking around at the mess they'd both let accumulate over recent days. There was a weeks worth of dirty washing lying in a basket near the corner, a stack of plates in the kitchen, a few empty beer bottles sitting near the fireplace and crumbs all over the sofa. The floor was unmentionable…

"Yeah?" Arthur said, gesturing at the mess. "Well, what's your excuse, then?"

"I was graduating today, _remember_?" Merlin said wryly. "I'll get the vacuum cleaner…"

"Well, hurry. My dad will be here any minute!" Arthur called after him as he vanished into a cupboard and emerged again with an armful of cleaning equipment, which he dumped on the floor and nudged half of towards Arthur with a toe.

"Get started, then. I'm not doing anything in these," he gestured down at his graduation robes as he made his way into another room to get changed, the bundle of jeans and T-shirt in his arms.

Grumbling half-heartedly, Arthur set to work on the crumbs that were scattered all over the sofa, probably from the previous night when they'd stayed up to watch a movie extravaganza.

Arthur smiled to himself as he remembered Merlin groping around for more crisps in his packet, too engrossed with the film to bother looking down. Then the Tele had issued a loud bang that sent the remainders of the crisps flying into the air and Merlin hiding behind a cushion.

Arthur chuckled and brushed the crumbs off the chair. After Merlin reappeared, the lounge was soon set back to rights, and it was just as his friend was making a move for the dishes; Arthur heard an obnoxious rapping on the door.

Exchanging a glance with Merlin who had frozen in the kitchen doorway, Arthur squared his shoulders and marched over to open the door. He looked through the peephole, beforehand.

"Who is it?" Merlin hissed.

"It's Old Man Simmons…" Arthur replied, referring to their grouchy old neighbour who – for some reason that eluded them both – had it in for Merlin.

Merlin squeaked something and hid in the kitchen as the door suddenly swung open and a fat man, wearing a grubby used-to-be-white vest, strolled in. Old Man Simmons was renowned for being the most cantankerous, grumpy, ill-tempered and frankly angry man in the entire block. Unfortunately, he also owned all the flats in the building and was forever barging in, demanding the rent, which Merlin and Arthur could very easily pay but never did, seeing as the first time they'd met the old bloke, his wife had attacked Merlin with an umbrella and left him – as Arthur said – scarred for life…

"RENT!" the grisly man barked, sending flecks of spit into Arthur's face.

"It's in the post," Arthur replied as he always did, wiping his face with the back of his sleeve as Simmons made his way further into the room, sniffing as if he could smell something disgusting.

"I smell that…_creature_," he hissed, narrowing his eyes. "He's still 'ere, ain't he?"

"If you mean Merlin…" Arthur said, drawing himself to his full height to protect his friend.

"Nasty, unnatural beast…" Simmons went on, both ignoring and thoroughly vexing Arthur. "Should be locked away…never to see the light of day…" he continued to sniff, edging closer and closer towards the kitchen door. "I'll find him, I will. Call the police I will…have him done for murder, I will…"

"Since when has Merlin ever – " Arthur began but was cut off as the old man suddenly flung open the kitchen door, which almost fell off its hinges when it hit the opposite wall with a loud thud.

Poor Merlin, who had been hiding under the table, yelped as Simmons grabbed his ear – Arthur always knew they'd be the death of him – and dragged him out from under the table. However, Merlin was saved from whatever fate the old man had in store for him by a cough and commanding presence at the door.

"Ah…" Simmons dropped Merlin in an instant and the poor boy fell to the floor before Arthur helped him up and brushed him down, glaring at Old Man Simmons who was mumbling some sort of an apology to Uther. Arthur's father looked uninterested and just leaned out of the way as the grouchy brute beat a hasty retreat.

"So," Uther said as though nothing had happened, coming forward to embrace his son, "what have I missed?"

Confused by this rather pleasant greeting, Arthur hugged his father back and cast Merlin a 'what's-up-with-him?' type of look before standing back and tousling his floppy fringe with a hand.

"Well, not much really," he said. "But you said you wanted to talk?"

"Indeed, I did…" Uther pulled a chair out from the table and sat down. "Its about the business."

All Arthur's hopes of a nice father-to-son chat flew out the window, and he dubiously took a seat opposite Uther who leant forward on the table and clasped his hands together in a formal manner. Merlin, sensing this was a private conversation, slipped out the door.

"You'll be taking management of it any day now, and I need to know your ready," Uther said, looking Arthur sharply in the eye.

"Oh, Dad, c'mon…" Arthur groaned. "I know its up to me and all, but you've been saying 'its any day now' for years…"

"Well, you never know when I might decide to retire," Uther said, leaning back in his chair. Arthur continued to look doubtful. "Look, it can be that bad, can it? I mean; you're going to run a _media_ _empire_, Arthur! You'll be famous!"

"I don't want to be famous," Arthur muttered, staring at his folded arms.

Uther was about to say more when one of the many personal organizers on his belt went off. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Uther quickly pulled it out and analysed it for a moment before re-attaching it to his belt and standing up.

"I've got to go," he said, looking down at his son with what could possibly be a hint of disapproval regarding the conversation.

"When will you be back?" Arthur asked.

"A week or two," Uther said, avoiding Arthur's gaze as he made for the door. "I've got to go to Cambridge on business, didn't I tell you?"

"No," Arthur said, "you didn't."

"Well…I'll see you in a few weeks, then," Uther was heading straight for the door now, clearly not wanting to stay any longer, but Arthur abruptly stood up.

"Why do you always do this?" he demanded, his voice several times louder than before.

"Do what?"

"Just leave all the time. I never get to see you…" Arthur said, a lump forming in his throat. "The only person who's ever really been there for me is Merlin. Not even you can bother to spend five minuets with me, ever since…ever since mother died…"

Uther's eyes may have widened ever so slightly for a moment, but if they did, they soon returned to their usual size, and he turned around before speaking to Arthur over his shoulder.

"Its not my fault if I've got a business to run, Arthur," he said in a hard voice. "I'll see you in a few weeks."

Angrily, Arthur watched as he made his way out of the flat without saying another word. From where had been reclining on the sofa, trying not to overhear the conversation, Merlin stood up and went over to his friend, gingerly putting a hand on his shoulder to try and calm him down.

"You alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine…" Arthur said dismissively. "When's the match on?"

Staying silent, Merlin handed him the TV page and returned to the sofa, knowing that when Arthur was in one of his 'yes, I'm fine' moods, it was best to leave him alone.

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**More coming soon! **

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	3. Chapter Three

During three dreary hours of watching Cash In The Attic, Grand Design and an ancient episode of Doctor Who that Arthur had said was probably from the Stone Age, the weather that had once been bright and sunny – perfect for Merlin's graduation day – began to take a turn for the worse. Soon the windowpanes were lashed with rain, and gleaming drops of water beaded down the glass, racing each other.

And as a result, neither boy lounging on the sofa was surprised when there was the deep rumbling of thunder overhead. However, when the football match finally flickered onto the screen, they were both startled as a bolt of lightning tore across the stormy sky and all the lights went out, including the Tele.

Muttering something angrily, Arthur stumbled through the dark over to a wall where he felt around for a switch. Even though he flicked it several times, the lights still didn't come on, and the darkness was only broken by another flash of lightning from the window.

"I take it this means the match is off," Merlin said, downhearted.

"Yeah…" Arthur sighed. "Sorry, I know you wanted a bit of a celebration what with passing your graduation and all."

"Nah, don't worry about it," Merlin replied, the sofa creaking as he stood up. "I'm gonna hit the sack, what about you?"

"I'm going to read a book," Arthur said slowly.

"A book," Merlin repeated.

"Yes."

"Alright…well, have fun with that. Good night."

Arthur heard Merlin shuffle off to bed, yawning.

He looked at the window dubiously as another bolt of lightning blazed across the sky, creating long, eerie shadows for a moment before vanishing again and leaving Arthur with an imprint of the room on his eyes.

Having lied to his friend about the book, he made his way to a sideboard where he pulled out a shoebox. Converse All Stars, of course. Merlin did have a very iconic style – Morgana was right – and they were his favourite type of shoes. Plus his existing ones were in desperate need of replacement, so Arthur had thought to buy him a brand new pair for a graduation present.

Finding it difficult in the gloom but persevering nevertheless, Arthur carefully wrapped the box up in some dark blue paper and replaced it back in the draw, ready to give to his friend tomorrow.

He'd taken his time, so when he made his way into the room they both shared; he found Merlin was already asleep. The bunk bed protested loudly as he swung himself onto it and nestled himself down under the covers. He was just drifting off to sleep as Merlin suddenly shot awake, screaming murder and causing him to sit up with a jolt and whack his head painfully on the ceiling.

"NOOO, THE KILLER SQUIRRLES!!!"

Arthur groaned, remembering the horror movie they'd watched the previous night, and hung his head over the side of the bed.

"Merlin," he said, "there are _no_ killer squirrels. Why do I even let you watch those movies? Go back to sleep…_please_."

Merlin, still muttering something about acorns, lay back down again and Arthur also went to sleep as the storm continued to batter the windows.

* * *

The next morning, Arthur was loudly awoken by Merlin's alarm clock. As he jumped out of the bunk bed and dug around in the pile of clothes strewn across the floor – their room was a mess, not something to be reckoned with – he noticed wheezing coming from where Merlin was huddled, his blanket pulled over his head.

To say he looked like death warmed up would be an understatement. He looked positively terrible. There was sweat beading down his forehead, his face was white and he was surrounded by a conglomeration of scrunched up used tissues.

Through his half opened eyes, Merlin noticed he was staring at him and groaned profusely before pulling the blanket further over his head.

"I'm ill," he mumbled groggily, his face half buried in his pillow.

"I can see that…" Arthur's eyebrows knitted into a concerned frown as he perched on the side of the bed and checked Merlin's temperature with his hand. It was clear he had a fever, or perhaps the flu. "Do you want a lemsip or anything?"

"No," Merlin said. "I've got an interview today. I don't have time to be ill."

"An interview?" Arthur exclaimed, surprised. "Oh, that's great, Merlin!"

Merlin worked part time in a newsagent, but Arthur knew his dream job was to be a newspaper reporter. He also knew how Merlin studied the papers left over from the shop that hadn't been sold, and tried to extract all he could from writing styles and suchlike. He'd been trying to find an interview for ages. It didn't seem fair that on the day he finally got one, he had to catch the flu.

Merlin tried to sit up, brushing away all the screwed up tissues, but Arthur firmly pushed him back down.

"You're not going anywhere in this state," he told his friend sharply, standing up. "Stay there and I'll ring to ask them to postpone the interview, yeah? How's that?"

Merlin nodded weakly and sunk back into the bed as Arthur grabbed his Nokia and punched in the number Merlin gave him before walking out the door, mobile to his ear.

Merlin felt dreadful. His head was pounding like several bombs (or perhaps fireworks) were going off, his arms and legs didn't seem to want to move and his throat scratched every time he took a deep breath. It had better not be swine flu, or the newspaper would never hold the meeting off long enough for him to recover. But what if it was? Merlin began going through all the worse case scenarios, such as Arthur catching it and then both of them dying, like the radio, TV and whatever kept saying…

"They said they'd reschedule it to Friday, so you'd better improve by then or you'll ruin your chances, I'm afraid," Arthur said, coming back into the room and sitting down on the bed. "You sure you don't want anything?"

"Well…I suppose a lemsip would be nice…" Merlin rasped in a scratchy voice.

"Don't you worry, Merlin. I'll make sure you get to that interview, even if it means I have to dish out a bit of TLC," Arthur joked on his way back to the door.

Glad he didn't have to work that week, he made his way to the kitchen where he brewed Merlin a lemsip before returning and handing it to him.

"Got any idea who you caught it off?" he asked while Merlin sipped the drink unenthusiastically.

"I've no idea…" Merlin wheezed, setting the mug on the cupboard beside the bed. "But it was probably Old Man Simmons."

"I can always set a horde of toads into his apartment again, if you like…" Arthur suggested with a mischievously raised eyebrow.

"Big, green, slimy ones?" Merlin inquired through one half opened eye.

"Naturally."

Merlin managed to splutter a laugh before subsiding into a shaky cough. Sitting on the other end of the bed, Arthur watched on with concern as his friend slipped down further under the covers, still coughing.

While Merlin closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, Arthur cast his gaze around the room. Catching sight of a pair of Merlin's battered old shoes, he was reminded of the box in the sideboard, which he got up to fetch.

"Here, I know its not a miraculous cure or anything, but I got you this," he said, passing the wrapped up box to his friend.

Merlin edged himself up onto an elbow and tore open the wrapping paper. He broke into a wide grin as he found a pair of smart, black Converses inside, and turned to look up at Arthur who was smiling modestly.

"Thank you!" his eyes wear shining as he pulled the crunchy paper out of the way and abandoned it on the floor before beginning to untie both pairs of laces, looking intently at every aspect of the shoes with fascination.

"Its nothing," Arthur shrugged. "I'll be in the other room. Call if you need anything."

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**Oh, and by the way, I'm away on camp for a week, so that's how long you're gonna have to wait for the final chapter! Sorry if you were wanting it sooner...**

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	4. Chapter Four

**I'm sorry you all had to wait so long for this! I hope you enjoy it!**

**And yes, this is the last chapter, but if anyone has any ideas on what I could do for another AU fic, then please don't hesitate to tell me!**

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Over the next four days that led to Friday, Merlin's condition barely improved, even though Arthur was constantly by his bedside, taking care of him.

Many times he'd asked if he should call for a doctor but Merlin always told him he was fine and didn't need anyone. However, this was clearly not the case considering he'd collapsed when he'd tried to get out of bed once. Arthur had told him sternly to stay in bed after that and took it upon himself to cater to Merlin's every whim.

Muttering something about swine flu, Merlin had ordered him to leave him alone. As if Arthur would abscond his friend to fend for himself like that. Never.

When Friday dawned and Merlin was still hacking all over the place, Arthur had given him the unwelcome diagnosis of having to cancel the interview. By no means was Merlin having any of that and demanded to be driven to the paper editing office.

Very much against his will, Arthur was taking Merlin up there now in his clunky old Ford. He glanced over to his friend who had done his very best to look presentable and was even wearing the new Converses. However, there were still those telltale signs.

For instance, he was constantly sneezing, sniffing and snorting, had a ghostly complexion and, despite how Arthur always kept a cool, wet cloth on his forehead, there was still a cold sweat on his face. Even someone without a brain could see the poor boy was ill, but Arthur was hopeful that Merlin could still somehow achieve the job, regardless of his 'swine flu' – as he had dubbed it.

"Well, good luck," Arthur smiled at his friend as he drew the car up outside the busy block of offices.

Merlin nodded nervously and swallowed a lump in his throat, taking a deep breath. Arthur could see he looked quite tense and wrote it off as jitters about the interview. He wasn't wrong. Merlin was indeed very jumpy. Writing meant everything to him and it would probably be ages until he managed to find another interview. He'd only just graduated and more than most papers weren't at ease with taking on someone so young. This would be his only chance for a long time. If he messed up, it would all be over. That's what Merlin's mind was screaming at him and, having known him his whole life, Arthur could see this.

"Hey, it'll be alright," he said comfortingly, handing Merlin back his folder of papers that his friend's trembling hands had let slide to the floor. "You know you're good enough for the job, you've just got to show _them_ that."

"You reckon they'll like me…?" Merlin looked doubtfully at the looming offices.

"Well, why wouldn't they?" Arthur reasoned. "Go on, off you go or you'll be late."

"You'll pick me up, right?" Merlin asked as he began to pull the window of the car down so he could climb out.

Arthur nodded and Merlin sent him a final grateful glance before clambering out of the window, picking himself up and making his way up the steps of the building. Carefully watching him go, Arthur gave him a 'go on, then' look when Merlin turned around halfway up the steps, looking lost.

As Merlin was swallowed up by the swivelling doors of the office, Arthur leant back in his chair and kept a watchful eye out for when he would return in what he guessed would be an hour or so.

* * *

After a short snooze, Arthur picked Merlin out from the crowd as his friend finally appeared and walked up to the car. He tried to read Merlin's expression as he climbed back into his seat and sat down heavily, but his friend's face was _utterly_ blank. Never having seen him like this before, Arthur wondered whether his unyielding expression was good or bad as he started up the car and pulled away.

"So," he said after an uncomfortable moment of silence, "how'd it go."

"I'll tell you later," Merlin mumbled, staring impassively at the floor.

Arthur decided to stay quiet after that and remained so until they were back in the flat.

He sat down next to Merlin on the sofa where his friend was slumped, staring at the folder of papers that were settled on his lap.

"What happened?" he asked gently, sensing that what had taken place hadn't gone to plan.

"They said I was too young and inexperienced," Merlin said, his voice quiet. "More like I had an infectious disease they didn't want to catch…"

Arthur narrowed his eyes sympathetically and wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulders. Merlin was shaking now and Arthur was sure he saw a tear escape his eye.

"I…I really wanted that j-job!" Merlin's breath caught in his throat as he said it and he let out a small sob.

"I know," Arthur rubbed his friend's back as Merlin suddenly fell upon him, crying into his shoulder.

They sat there for a moment and when Merlin eventually released him and looked him deeply in the eyes, Arthur was startled by the living storm of gold he found there.

He'd seen it once before when Merlin had got emotional. It had been a number of years ago when they were still in school. Merlin had gotten angry, really angry, in fact livid would do it justice, when the school bully had attacked his scarf with a hedge trimmer.

Arthur, just about to stick up for his friend and teach the idiot who was boss, had caught sight of the golden blizzard in Merlin's eyes. Seeing it quite clearly, there was no denying it wasn't a trick of the light.

He'd been frightened at first, and then curious, but said nothing to Merlin about it, however, and instead spent a long time pondering and mulling it over in his mind. Being only eleven years old then, Arthur had a more vivid imagination and had told himself it was some kind of magic. He'd stuck with that theory ever since, even though, now he was an adult, it just sounded stupid, or at least it would if he hadn't accidentally caught Merlin actually _using_ magic in the kitchen to _clean the dishes_ of all things. After _that_ he'd been sure.

He knew Merlin would tell him eventually, when he was ready, but until that day, Arthur was going to be his shoulder to lean upon.

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**I had a lot of fun writing this, so I reckon you can expect for AU fics from me soon!**

**If anyone out there is wondering how the sequel to Devil May Care is going, the answer is well, very well. It's actually kind of long, so it might take a while but you can expect it to be out in the next few weeks!**

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